


Finding Wonderland

by SteampunkCow



Category: AU - Fandom, Alice in Wonderland - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Abuse, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Gangs, M/M, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Violence, daddy-issues, finding yourself, mildly based off of alice in wonderland, on the streets, original story &characters, pride in yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteampunkCow/pseuds/SteampunkCow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Alice Murray wanted was a lousy 100 dollar pay off for attending one AA meeting, just so she could afford more booze- she never planned on having her life choices examined by a mentally unstable and yet all too intriguing guy calling himself Hayden. Too bad, because that guy, Hadder St. Jerick, decided on a spur of ungodly boredom, to change poor Alister's life, or so Alice called herself. He'd help her get out of the drugs, the alcohol, and everything else: he'd help her find her Wonderland. With the help of his best friend March (Matthew French) and Cheshire (Chase Devonshire)...<br/>Of course, achieveing goals like that are hard when the gang he's in (the white queens army) goes into a brutal turf war with their rival gang. The Red Queen's Army.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Wonderland

Finding Wonderland

 

"My name is Alister and I am an alcoholic."  
'Simple enough', she thinks, her delicate hand pulling at the contrasting raven lock that was hanging as a contour to her softly rounded cheekbone. 'Just keep it short and you can get through this without punching somebody.' Her conscious murmurs to her in the back of her mind, 'keep it together. Hell, lie if you have to, remember- you need the money.'  
"And I've been sober for an hour." She releases an irritable sigh and pierces everyone in the cramped dully attentive room with her maple eyes, daring someone, anyone, to criticize her.  
Either way, she couldn't care less.

\----  
Hadder St. Jerick lounges lazily in the back of the AA conference room, a pretty regular looking area with lamely grey paint job on the walls and moth-eaten red chairs in half circle rows facing a podium which was in front of a rather distracting, (in Hadders opinion,) table full of volunteer brought snacks like oreos, crackers, and juice... Leaving the speaker with something of a competition of interest in Hadders mind the majority of the time. Food or person, food or p- ooh but those are saltine crackers!  
Nah, in fact, this time Hadder had actually chosen to pay attention to the speaker-because it's not often that one attends the AA and acts like its a supreme joke and practically stands up and insults everybody and their hard worked sobriety in a single pair of sentences. Yet somehow, this strange girl just did so to the mark. 'And I've been sober for an hour' Jesus, this isn't some comedy hour.  
The blonde man snorts in disdain, leaning forwards to stare at the speaker who obviously didn't give a damn, expecting to see some typical stoner girl or maybe a really feminine guy with issues- but instead Hadders green eyes fall upon a slight surprise.  
She's short, 5'6" at most, and looks like a model clothed in bag lady attire: a worn black leather jacket with a patch haphazardly sewn onto the shoulder, worn over a dark green zip up hoodie and a large grey shirt grouped with what looks like a pair of basketball shorts beneath a pair of ratty, also terribly patched, black sweatpants that dwarfed her tiny hips... And lastly, a pair of holy green converse which also seemed oddly oversized like the rest of her clothes.  
Her eyes are large and round, wreathed with long dark lashes which, sadly enough are emphasized with dark crescents and slightly red rims shading her eyelids. Despite this however, her irises sparkle dimly and their vibrant maple color giving her a heavy lidded, doe-eyed appearance. Her nose is also rather aptly cute to match her eyes as it slopes gently to an upturned button whose pink tint compliments her dark rose colored lips. Alisters lips are almost perfect, much like the painted lips on a porcelain doll, her upper lip thin and yet delicately prominent and her lower lip fuller with a natural pout- which is expressed more so by the the tiny silver rings accenting either corner of her bottom lip.  
After giving her a once over, or maybe a thrice over (he guiltily admits to himself mentally)Hadder decides that of all of her, her hair is his favorite feature: absurdly long and drawn back neatly into a loose and contradicting, tangled bun. The style resulting in several stray, wavy and night toned locks framing her face and curling up from the tips, demonstrating an obscure yet accurate description of her personality he assumes. 'Elegant but messy.'  
Hadder chuckles, still rather irked, and then aims a second, louder laugh towards the girl at the podium. He wants a fight, and he knows just how to start one... Hey, maybe it'll bring some entertainment to this boring meeting? After all, he only comes to stifle the carping from his best friend March- a long time veteran of the AA in his ongoing battle to defeat the urge to get just one drink when they're at pubs... Funny thing is, he'd probably win if he wasn't also hyped up on what they liked to call 'tea leaves' almost every waking moment.  
Hadder pauses, ok, maybe it wasn't so hilarious, serious deal there he supposes, but in this era and in their position, the two of them didn't really own a care in the world.  
At the thought, Hadder glances over to where his friend is sitting, supposedly paying attention but really just watching the dust particles swirl around in the breeze provided by the industrial fan lodged at the back of the conference room. 'So much for being serious, Matthew, you're to-tal-ly sobering up,you doped playboy,' Hadder thinks to himself, referring to his wing man by his front alias 'Matthew French.' A pretty fair name, seeing as Hadder himself went by Hayden Lark because he thought his parents were drugged up hippies along with their blatant disregard for attachments and meaningful ties. (After all, who else would think of a name like 'Hadder St. Jerick '?) damn,  
Hadder didn't even know what his last name was... At least, he couldn't remember what it was, he was only five after all when he lost both his parents to a crack dealer who never got paid, he guessed it was the childhood trauma that caused him only to remember what his parents had called him. Huh...  
One bullet each, that's all it took to make him an orphan, the doctor who took the bullets out said that it should've been good luck when he found Hadder crying at the door of the pharmacy down the street from his home... Should've been good luck that he had been brought back to Hadders parents just an hour after they had been shot: good luck that they were both shot in the chest rather than the head even though it was close quarters.  
Hayden idles his hand at his right earlobe, toying with the bullet that hung there, attached to the ring through his ear... Matching the other bullet in a tiny jar around his neck... Both from the same gun, both a reminder of his parents and their past lives. Guess being 'care free' runs in the family, and both an abnormal souvenir from his past.  
Hadder shakes his head, tuning his attention back to Alister as she tells her story, though in his mind, it's not like it will be emotionally moving at all. Not after her poorly given intro.


End file.
